Let Down Your Hair
by The Legend of Rune Factory
Summary: *genderbent novelization* A long time ago, a single drop of sunlight fell from the sky, hit the ground, and caused a magical golden flower to bloom. Well, that creepy old man, Father Gothel, decided to use it to keep himself young and later kidnapped the prince imbued with its power. Now that very same prince wants to see the floating lanterns. And I just want my satchel back...
1. A Magical Golden Flower

**All right, I'd just like to make a few notes before I get started. For one, this isn't done in the complete genderbent style; only the main characters (Rapunzel, Flynn, Mother Gothel, Pascal, and Maximus) are swapped. Secondly, except for the healing incantation, there is no singing. **

**And thirdly: I own nothing.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_"This is the story of how I died... I'm just kidding, it's a happy story. Really! It's not even mine, to be honest. I don't even know why I'm narrating it. It's actually the story of a young man, named Rupert. _

_ "Anyway, it starts with the sun. A long time ago, a single drop of sunshine fell from the sky and hit the earth, where a golden flower grew. Now, this wasn't your run-of-the-mill daisy; this flower had the power to heal the sick and wounded. _

_ "Unfortunately, it was in such a convenient location that some people were able to take advantage of it. Like that guy!"_

An old man reached for the flower in the waning sunlight, his eyes trained on the golden petals.

_"Yeah, remember him. He's pretty important too. _

_ "Well, centuries passed and a hop, skip, jump, swim, boat ride, whatever away, a kingdom rose up. It was ruled by a much beloved king and queen, and all were very happy. To make things even better, the queen was about to have a baby! _

_ "But, then she got sick, really, really sick. And though I've never been pregnant myself, I can say that being ill while great with child probably isn't the best. But I digress. She was running out of time, and it's in situations like these that people start praying for miracles. Or in this case, looking for a magical glowing lily. Daisy. Whatever it is. _

_ "Oh look, it's our friend again. You see, this guy, Father Gothel, has been using the flower to keep himself young for centuries instead of sharing the damn thing. It was easy for him, since all he had to do was sing a special little song."_

The man uncovered the golden plant and began singing to it, waving his hands around it to harvest its power. "_Flower gleam and glow; let your power shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine…_" He smirked as his gray hair darkened to a midnight black and his wrinkles disappeared. "_What once was mine._"

_"Yeah, you get it. He sings to it, turns young again. Creepy, I know."_

Father Gothel turned as he heard the shouts of the castle guards coming up the hill. He quickly covered the flower with a cage disguised as shrubbery and dove to get out of sight. As he did so, the cage rolled off the plant. He made the motion to go out and fix it, but was cut short by the guard captain.

"We've found it!" The man shouted, waving his lantern in the air.

Gothel's eyes narrowed as he watched his precious flower be dug up and taken away. With a low growl he disappeared into the night.

_ "Using the flower's magic, the queen was healed. Soon a healthy baby boy, a prince, was born. He had long golden hair that his parents were very pleased with. Apparently. They certainly didn't cut it to a more manly length, that's for sure."_

The queen gently picked up her son and smiled as he reached for his father's beard. She looked at her husband, who gazed at his family warmly.

_"I'll give you a hint: that's Rupert. Little cutie, wasn't he? Anyway, to celebrate his birth, the king and queen released a lantern into the sky. For that single, wonderful moment, everything was perfect. _

_ "But that moment ended, like all moments do eventually."_

Father Gothel, now truly showing his age, climbed into Prince Rupert's bedroom. He slowly drew a pair of rusty scissors from his cloak as he approached the crib where the baby royal lay. A smirk adorned his features and he plucked a single lock of golden hair from the pillows.

"_Flower gleam and glow; let your power shine._" A chuckle worked its way up his throat as the hair began to glow vibrantly. "_Make the clock rever—_"

He gasped as he snipped the lock of hair. As soon as it was separated from its roots, it turned a dark shade of brown and at once the youth left him. He gritted his teeth and placed the scissors back in his cloak before grabbing the child.

At once little Rupert began to cry. The king and queen awoke in time to watch Father Gothel escape into the night with their one and only son.

_"Gothel broke into the castle, stole away the prince, and just like that, he was gone. The guards searched and searched, but to no avail. Father Gothel had taken him to a tower hidden deep in the forest, where no one would ever find them. He raised Rupert as his own son in the sanctuary of their home._

_ "He had found his new flower, and this time, he wasted nothing in keeping him from the outside world."_

Young Rupert sat before the fire place as his father combed out his hair. "_Bring back what once was mine. What once was mine…_" His shrill, childish voice echoed through the stone tower.

Father Gothel sighed deeply as the youth spread through him.

"Father, why can't I go outside?" He turned slightly, staring at the man with large emerald eyes.

"The outside world is a very dangerous place, full of selfish, terrible people. That's why you must stay here, where you're safe. Do you understand, my boy?"

The child nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

_ "Though try as he might, those cold, stone walls couldn't keep everything out. Each year on the prince's birthday, the king and queen sent thousands upon thousands of floating lanterns into the sky, in hopes that someday…"_

Rupert rested his head on the windowsill as he watched the lights glow in the heavens above with the stars.

_"Their lost prince would return."_

* * *

**Don't forget to check out my blog here! aureliaknight!weebly!com (replace ! with .)**


	2. The Morning Routine

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

The sun shone brightly on the lone tower in the valley. Light glistened off the waterfall as it crashed over the rock face. Two birds flew over the small lake before spiraling into the air. And atop the ivy-covered structure, a single green chameleon scrambled for cover behind a potted plant. Its scales immediately changed colors to conceal it from preying eyes, and it chuckled as it realized there was absolutely no way it could be found.

At the very next moment, the shutters to the window flew open. "A-HA!" The young man smirked and brushed some hair from his face. "Well, I guess Priscilla isn't hiding out here, so…" He sauntered away from the window, his hands at his back.

The chameleon chuckled again. Suddenly, a lock of golden hair wrapped itself around the end of her tail and she found herself flying into the air.

"Gotcha!"

She squeaked as she came face-to-face with a large emerald eye. The colors drained from her scales, save the tiny pink bow tied about her neck. "Hrm…" She glared at her owner as he put her down.

"All right, that's twenty-two for me… Whoo, I'm on a roll today!" He leaned on the edge of the sill. "What say twenty-three out of forty-five?"

Priscilla stuck her tongue out at him.

"Well… What do you wanna do then?" He tilted his head slightly.

She whipped around and pointed at the earth below them with her tail, her brown eyes sparkling. "Meep?"

He sighed and picked her up, holding her in his palm. "Priscilla, you know I can't leave the tower." He stroked her head before setting her back on the windowsill. "I like it in here, and so do you. Now come on, we have to get going with our chores before Father gets back."

Rupert dashed across the stone floor, his long hair trailing behind him. He managed to hoist himself up to some of the support beams of the tower and whipped the end of his mane to hook around a window lever. As it pulled down, he wrapped another section around a different beam and slid down it like a rope.

Priscilla tapped the glass face of the clock hanging on the wall urgently. He picked her up. "I know, I know. It's already seven and we haven't even started!"

He grabbed a broom from the closet beneath the stairs that held all his other cleaning supplies. "All right, Priscilla. Time to start with the usual morning line-up!" He tried to move his hair out of the way. "Let's start with the chores. First, we have to sweep the whole place."

As Rupert swept, Priscilla followed him around with a dust pan. In seemingly no time at all they were finished. He put them back in the closet and rummaged around until he found brushes, buckets, and a mop. He turned around with them all in his arms.

"Now we have to wax the floors, dust everything, do laundry, and then sweep again just to be sure." He put everything down and picked up the chameleon, setting her on his shoulder. "If I'm going to talk to Father tonight about you-know-what, everything has to be perfect." He kicked up the mop with his foot and caught it in his hand.

Priscilla exhaled quickly before she nodded and gave him an energetic squeak. He grinned. "All right, let's go!"

Rupert was a blur as he worked. Priscilla, not being able to keep up, instead rested on the candlesticks; though she was abruptly disturbed as he flew over them with a duster. "Sorry!" He picked her up and carried her with him. She dug her tiny claws into his silk shirt so as not to fall off during his hectic cleaning.

Soon enough she found herself on top of his head. She groaned simultaneously with him as he rested against the wall by the clock. "Finished!" He breathed. "Let's see… Oh." He tapped the clock face before his shoulders fell. "It's only seven fifteen… I got done really early." Reaching up, he grabbed Priscilla by her tail, which she wrapped around his finger. "How about some breakfast?" He placed her on the kitchen counter.

She nodded enthusiastically. He whipped out some bread and butter for himself and a small dish of water for her. "All right, here ya go!" As he sat at the small table, he plopped an overturned stone tile that held a few household pests on it before her. Immediately she set to work snapping them up with her tongue.

Rupert pulled out a scroll from his pocket and unfurled it. "Okay Prifilla, here'f da plan." He swallowed the bit of bread before continuing. "First, I'll read a book. Or two. Or three." He caught her looking at him doubtfully. "Well, I only have three books so I might as well read them all!"

The chameleon merely rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, after I get done reading, I'm going to paint some more. Then there's practicing my guitar and…knitting? How did that get on here?" He reached into his pocket for the small charcoal pencil he kept with him for sketching and scratched it out. "Very funny, Priscilla. By then it'll probably be lunch, so I'll go ahead and cook that. After lunch it's puzzles, darts, and more baking. More baking?" He tapped the pencil to his chin before blacking it out as well. "We still have some cookies from last time I baked."

Priscilla stopped lapping up her water for a moment before she continued. "Eep."

"I know, but we only eat so many pies and stuff. Next is doing some paper mache and _not_ ballet because you keep sneaking this stuff on here! Teaching you to write was my biggest mistake…" He furiously scribbled it off as she snickered. "Yeah, yeah. You laugh it up. I'm going to beat you at chess, which is after the paper mache. Then there's pottery, ventriloquism, candle making… I might sketch some more after that, maybe climb the rafters…"

Rupert suddenly picked her up and held her on the table on her hind legs. "You could use a new dress, right? I could sew one for you!"

"Meep?!"

"Yeah, you're right; I should fix up my own clothes before I make you any more. After that I have to comb out my hair; all seventy feet of it." He sighed and rolled up the scroll. "Well, that's our list. I guess we could…" His voice trailed off as he looked up at the adjacent wall where a wooden arch accent was bordered by two dark curtains. "Wait a minute… Wait a minute!" He jumped to his feet and climbed up the mantle to shove the arch out of the way. "This is perfect! My paints, Priscilla!"

She dashed off the table and went to grab his bag of paints. She managed to start dragging it across the floor when he swooped down for it. "Thanks anyway." He grabbed his pet and the bag to place them on the ledge. Then, using his hair as rope, he lifted himself up. "I need a brush and dark blue paint!"

With Priscilla's help Rupert had painted the base for his newest piece rather quickly, and was now working on the main subject matter. "You know, my birthday's tomorrow."

"Urp?" She had a paintbrush in her mouth, her tongue wrapped around the handle to ensure she didn't drop it.

"Yeah, I know. I'll be eighteen already." He finished meticulously coloring in a bright yellow orb. "The lights will be out tomorrow night, just like usual."

She climbed up on his head.

"Maybe… Now that I'm older, Maybe Father will let me go see them. Just once." He reached for the brush. "Thanks."

Priscilla nuzzled down in the hair on the top of his head.

"I'm going to ask him when he gets home." He swung down to dab more paint on the brush. "I wonder what it's like out there…" He shrugged and kept painting. "I guess I'll find out tomorrow if he takes me to see them!" With that happy thought, he painted away to his heart's content.


	3. A Very Big Day

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

A young woman slid down the shingles of the castle roof, the empty satchel flopping sadly against her hip. Behind her she heard the Stabbington Brothers do the same. She inched her way around a tower, up and over a few chimneys, and finally she crawled up the roof to where the lost prince's crown was on display. Why exactly they chose to display it she didn't know; all she cared was that it would be easier to steal.

Flynna Rider stood on the very top of the roof, arched her back to pop some air bubbles from her vertebrae, and stared out over the kingdom. She smiled. "Wow… I could get used to this."

"Rider!" One of the brothers hissed. He held a rope as his twin held the window pane open.

"Wait." She brushed back some dark brown hair from her eyes with a smile. "Yep, I'm used to it. Boys, I want a castle." She turned to them.

The first brother walked up to her. "We do this job and you can buy one. Now let's go!" he grabbed her roughly by the back of her neck and dragged her over.

Once the rope was secured about her thin waist, they lowered her into the chamber. She gripped the satchel tightly in her hand, hoping they wouldn't drop her by accident. As she reached the pedestal with the crown, one of the many guards surrounding it—with her backs conveniently to her—sneezed.

She slipped the crown into the bag and leaned her elbow where it previously laid. "Ugh, hay fever? Gets me every time."

The guard sniffed and nodded, turned his head slightly. "Yeah." He went back to his post until he realized what happened. "Hey! Wait!" He called after her.

By then, Flynna and the brothers were sprinting across the bridge leading out of the city. She slung the bag over her shoulder. "Can't you picture me in a castle? Because I sure as heck can!" She grinned into the wind. "Oh the things we've seen and it's only eight in the morning! Boys, I have a feeling this is going to be a very big day!"

* * *

"All right Priscilla." Rupert put the last paint jar in the box and closed the lid resolutely. "This is a very big day. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna ask Father to take me to see the floating lights!"

Priscilla climbed up his arm and nodded with a squeak. "Mmrp!"

"Rupert!" A voice faintly floated into their high tower room. "Rupert, let down your hair!"

Rupert jumped at the noise. "He's here. Okay, here it goes." He placed the chameleon on his finished painting. "Can't let him see you."

He dashed to the window as the voice called again. "Rupert, you know I'm not getting any younger!"

"Coming Father!" He swung his hair over a hook and allowed the bulk of it to slide outside. When he felt a tug, he began to pull.

Slowly but surely his passenger was lifted up the tower's length until he could finally step inside the window. He threw back the cloak's hood to reveal a head of short, curly black hair with silver streaks. Father Gothel stroked his short beard as he eyed his adopted son.

"Hey Dad. Welcome home!" Rupert smiled awkwardly.

"How do you manage to do that every single day? Don't you get tired?" Gothel's sharp grey eyes narrowed.

Rupert shrugged. "Eh. It's nothing really."

"Then I don't know why it takes so long." He chuckled as he hung the cloak on a nearby stand. "I'm kidding." He patted the boy's shoulder as he walked by.

He followed his father to a large mirror. "Err… Right. So, I was wondering—"

Gothel stood back. "Rupert, come look in the mirror." He pulled his son close. "Do you know what I see? I see a strong, strapping young man!" He pounded his fist lightly to his chest. "And you're here too." He laughed aloud before playfully punching Rupert's shoulder. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Lighten up, kid!" He tugged on his beard and continued primping his mustache.

Rupert shook himself. "Yeah. So anyway, like I was saying, tomorrow's kind of a really big day and I wanted to ask you—"

"Kid, I'm feeling a bit run-down." He cleared his throat. "Hey, you missed a spot on your hair. Let me get that."

Rupert nodded. "Got it!" He dashed to get a chair, which he placed before the fireplace. He dashed back around for a stool and his comb. "Here you go!" He forcibly helped Gothel sit down and tossed a bundle of hair into his lap.

"Rupert—"

"_Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine._" Rupert began singing, far more quickly than usual.

Gothel stared at him dumbfounded for a moment before he realized what was happening. He began combing as fast as his aged hands could. "Rupert!"

"_Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine._"

"Wait!" The old man kept combing and combing as his son didn't have any intention of stopping.

"_Heal what has been hurt; change the fates' design._"

"WAIT!"

"_Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine._"

With a flash the youth returned to Gothel and he dropped the hair in his lap. "Rupert, what was that?!"

The young man paid no attention to him. "So yeah, I wanted to tell you that tomorrow's a big day and you didn't really listen to me so I'm just gonna tell you that it's my birthday!" He smiled. "Yeah!"

Gothel frowned slightly. "Impossible. Your birthday was last year."

"Well yeah, but birthdays kinda happen every year…" Rupert sat back. "Listen, I'm turning eighteen. So I wanted to know if you would, you know, do what I've been asking you for a while now—"

"Get to the point. You know I don't like beating around the bush." Gothel stood to take care of the groceries he brought back with him.

Rupert took a deep breath when Priscilla caught his eye. He nodded and bolstered himself. "I want to see the floating lights, Dad!"

The older man stopped for a moment. "The…what?"

"Well… I was hoping you'd actually take me to see them." Rupert stood to pull back the curtain from his newest painting of the lights in question.

Gothel chuckled and went back to putting things away. "I can't take you to the stars, Rupert."

"No, see, I've charted stars." Rupert whipped his hair up to open a porthole in the ceiling, casting light on another painting where he had indeed charted the sky around the tower. "They don't change. Ever. But these only appear on my birthday. Every single year, _only_ on my birthday. They're special. Like…they're meant for me."

His father rolled his eyes and went to the open window as his son kept talking.

"I want to see them. I _need_ to see them. In person. I have to know what they are…"

Gothel smirked, turning his head slightly. "Rupert, are you telling me you want to go outside?" He slammed the window shut with a bang and walked back over to his adopted son. "Look at yourself. You're not ready to go outside." He clapped his hand on his shoulder. "You know why we stay up here."

"Yeah, but—"

"That's right." Gothel trailed his hand along Rupert's long hair possessively. "To keep you safe and away from danger." He went to another window. "I should have known this day was coming." He slid the curtain shut over it. "I knew that someday you'd want to leave here."

Rupert followed him as he went to close another window. "Father—"

"Soon, son, but not yet. Trust me." Gothel leaned against the wall. "Father knows best." He slammed his foot against it, closing the porthole in the ceiling and engulfing the room in complete darkness.

Rupert managed to find a candle he made only a few days earlier and lit it. It created only a small pocket of light in the black fog surrounding him. He turned around just to see his father looming over him. He stumbled backward with a surprised cry as Gothel disappeared again.

"Let me put it this way, Rupert." His voice cut through the darkness. "It's a scary world outside."

Rupert felt something tugging on his hair. He dropped the candle, which went out halfway to the ground, and began tugging back. He felt himself fall backward until Gothel caught him. "Something _will_ go wrong. I promise you that much." He dropped the boy and disappeared again.

"Okay…" Rupert noticed the porthole open again and then he saw the shadows on the ground.

"There are ruffians, thugs, poison ivy, quicksand, cannibals, snakes…" With each item on the list Gothel caused a different shadow to appear.

Rupert jumped to his feet and tried to run, just to bump into Gothel holding a lantern. "The Plague."

"No there isn't!" He shrunk back in spite of himself.

"_Yes_." Gothel vanished into the darkness.

Just as Rupert began to relax he felt a wet _thing_ push him down.

"There are also large bugs and those dreadful things called women." Gothel was lying next to a crude drawing of a girl as Rupert fell to the ground. "Honestly, son, don't get tangled up with them. It's _disastrous_."

"Are you done?!" Rupert clambered to go open a window for some proper lighting.

Gothel stood up and dusted off his dark red tunic. "Rupert, you're inexperienced and naïve. You're not ready for the outdoors." He smiled slightly. "I'm just saying this because I care about you. I understand that you feel you're ready for the real world, but… You're not." He held out his arms. "I'm here to help you."

"I know, but…" He gazed helplessly out the window.

"Rupert, I allow you to do as you wish on one condition."

"Yes Father…"

Gothel walked to the boy's side and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't ever ask to leave this tower again."

He looked up into the face of the man who raised him. "Yes sir."

The frown on Gothel's face vanished and he smiled widely. "That's my boy!" He went to retrieve his cloak and the empty basket. "Now, I need to run for a few more things. I'll be back soon, got it?"

"Yeah… I get it." Rupert waited until his father was ready before he launched his hair out the window.

Gothel slid down the rope of golden hair to the ground. Above him, Rupert held it taught. "I'll see you later!"

"I'll be here, like always…" Rupert didn't bother gathering up his locks again and instead allowed them to flow in the wind. He sighed deeply.

Priscilla clambered up next to him. She squeaked questioningly.

"You know, he's right. I really shouldn't be asking for this stuff. I have everything I need right here." He sighed again and laid his head dejectedly against the windowsill. "Everything except a door."


End file.
